The Dressing Room

ACK.

When my mum and dad told me about this place, I thought it was merely a story to keep me and Cutter out of trouble and snooping around in places that we weren't supposed to be.

Why did I have to go into that ruddy closet in the Leaky? I'm brilliant, I swear it to you.

[An ink splotch appears on the page with little star doodles next to it]



... Is anyone even out there?

Recently I am reminded of the fable where in a young Muggle man, despondent at sharing the most guarded secret of a close friend, sought the aid of a wizard to right the ill. Indeed, the wizard told him to find a goose, pluck its feathers, coat them in a Beaconary Draught, and scatter them about the town in which he lived. He was to return in a week.

He did, of course, and was promptly told that he must retrieve all the feathers. Valiantly he tried, searching the town, the neighbouring wood and to sloshing about in the stream. He had yet collected only a quarter of the feathers when he again returned, protesting that it was impossible to retrieve the feathers. Scattered by wind and animals and other elements, the wizard agreed as he nodded, and ever spreading with the passing moments.

Those feathers, presumably, still flutter about with an innocent air that dares not belie the salacious nature of their allure.

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As well, I should like to express the fondest of holiday wishes to you all.